Blood Loss
by BarbaraW
Summary: Henry Fitzroy has left France and finds himself living in Natchez, Mississippi in the 1850's. Living in a world on the brink of Civil War, he begins a journey to free not only himself, but those that he loves. This story contains distasteful language that was used for slaves in America. Please forgive me for using it. (I have upgraded the rating to Mature due to adult themes.)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The Blood Books and the characters in them are property of the author, Tanya Huff. I am in no way trying to profit from them. The series Blood Ties is owned by Lifetime Television – I am in no way trying to profit from them either. However – if they decided to start filming again – I would be thrilled!**

Chapter 1

Near Port Royal, Tennessee, August 10, 1858

The sunset glittered across the Red River as Thomas held the reins of the perfectly matched brown Morgan horses from his seat high above them. His wife, Celeste, had fallen asleep in the carriage beneath him and her soft purrs combined with the rising cicada songs along the river. The day had been hot, but the road from Clarksville to Prince's Station was well-travelled, maintained and water was plentiful. The century old trees that lined the road provided good shade but they also provided good cover for anyone who wanted to ambush the carriage and the precious cargo hidden inside. Thomas checked his brand new Burnside carbine, enjoying the smooth feel of the fine oak. Between the carbine and his trusted Colt revolvers, he was certain that he could protect his cargo from any raiders.

"Celeste," Thomas whispered in the gathering twilight, "Wake up back there. The sun is going down."

Celeste stretched and tested her sore muscles. It seemed that they had been traveling forever, although it had only been a week. There was nothing more satisfying to her than knowing that they were traveling north, leaving the land of her birth near Tupelo, Mississippi, with plans to cross the border into Canada. Master Henry could protect them at night, but during the day they were the ones at risk. She stripped off her gloves and removed the heavy black veil from her face and breathed in the evening air. She played her role as southern gentry well; the heavy veil prevented anyone from looking close enough to see that her veil was not the only part of her that was black.

Thomas pulled the carriage off the side of the road and back behind a stand of thick trees. He knew that they were near Prince's Station crossing and he found that name fitting as he prepared for his master's waking. Opening the carriage door he lifted the secret latch that he himself had designed, this latch opened into what appeared to be a shallow container for lap robes, but pushing aside those robes and reaching under the cabinet released the second latch. This allowed the lid to be slipped out of place and revealed the secret contents secured in a box of the softest velvet and covered lovingly with a black velvet cloth.

Celeste rested in the shade of a large oak enjoying the cooling breeze. "Where are we?"

"We passed the turn to Port Royal just a short ways back. We should be close to Prince's Station, I expect we will cross there tonight and then rest on the other side." Thomas looked toward the carriage, his master was awake. "I would guess that Master Henry will be out anytime."

Celeste retrieved her working dress from her carpet bag and Thomas leaned over to begin unlacing her from the fine traveling dress that was her disguise.

"Good evening, Thomas. Good evening Celeste, you are looking lovely as usual." Henry's eyes darkened slightly at the small women whose back was exposed before his hunger. He could hear the blood rushing through her veins and it reminded him that he was overdue to dinner.

"Mr. Henry, you have promised not to look." Celeste chastised him gently and slipped into the cover of darkness to finish changing. She knew what her master was and she knew that he was a man of compassion and kindness, she and Thomas owed him their lives. However, she preferred not to play the temptress to a hungry man.

Henry laughed slightly at the blush he could feel rush through her skin. Even hidden in the shadows he could see her clear as daylight so he turned his attention back to Thomas. "Where are we Thomas?" Although he would most definitely take Celeste as his own, feed from her, love her; she belonged to Thomas and he preferred to keep it that way. It was his show of loyalty to the man who protected him by day.

"Prince's Station lay just up ahead. I thought we could cross there at Sulphur Fork and then stop for the night. It would be too risky to cross in the daylight; someone might look too close at my passenger and discover us." Thomas continued as Henry nodded his agreement. "There is a small settlement just beyond where you can find yourself a meal. Celeste and I will meet you just beyond the settlement and we will continue on in the morning."

"Sounds like a wise plan." Even though Thomas and Celeste were legally Henry's property, two Negroes driving north would cause too much suspicion and Henry had no intention of risking their lives if Celeste were to be discovered. "I will find a safe place for you to spend tomorrow just before we cross the border into Kentucky. I don't want you and Celeste attempting to cross into Kentucky by yourselves. For now let's load up and get across the Ferry."

Henry watched as Thomas swung himself back into the seat of the carriage. Celeste stood next to Henry as Thomas reached down for her and Henry gently lifted her into the high seat of the carriage next to him. Many times Celeste would ride in the carriage with him, but tonight he wanted to be fed and he had vowed long ago that neither Thomas nor Celeste would be part of his diet. They had lived through enough and although they carried slave papers, once they were safely out of America, he would replace those with their free papers that were kept hidden in the carriage. Henry would have done that long ago, except that the Fugitive Slave Law left even those with free papers at risk of capture and return to slavery.

He spent the ferry crossing deep in thought; it was the only way to silence the hunger. Henry had been enjoying himself on the European Continent, living primarily in France and spending time in King Louis Philippe I court surrounded by courtiers willing to satisfy his wants and his needs. The upheaval of 1848 and the seizure of the throne by Louis Napoleon the III in 1851 led to the crown jewel of Europe becoming tarnished for Henry. Courtiers who had traveled to New Orleans spoke of the opulence and rhythm of the city so he decided to stake new territory there himself. On his arrival he found a city teaming with those like him battling for feeding grounds. Rather than fight for a square of the French Quarter, he choose to travel north to the town of Natchez, Mississippi, sleeping in the safety of mausoleums during the day and riding his prized Arabian at night across the open countryside.

He had never been to a place so wide open. He could travel for hours without encountering more than a few small farms and the occasional plantation. Natchez was supposed to be open territory and he had been told that it was unclaimed although it sat on the Mississippi River, a natural highway for the transportation of humans. There was even a well to do lawyer that had space for rent and kept his eyes closed, if the price was right. It wasn't long after his arrival in Natchez that he discovered why it had been abandoned by his predecessor.

Henry wasn't sure how he felt about slavery; he had spent all of his life surrounded by servants. His short marriage to young Mary had been spent under the constant watch of his father's guards. His father paid tutors and servants willing to wait on them in a moment's notice. He smiled to himself, he had not thought of her in a very long time. They were children; it was an arranged marriage at the hand of his step-mother Anne Boleyn and Henry's father had forbidden him from having Mary for that reason. The marriage was an attempt by his father to legitimize his baseborn son so that, in time, Henry, Duke of Richmond and Somerset, could be crowned. Regardless, Henry's appetite was not for the young ill-favored Mary anyway, but for the raven-haired courtier named Christina, which was how he found himself 300 years later traveling through Mississippi.

Yes, he was ready to set up home in the town of Natchez as he came in the pre-dawn hours past the Forks of the Road slave market. His contact had arranged for him to rent a fine suite above the summer kitchen at Monmouth not far from the center of the city, his new hunting grounds. He had not intended to stop here, but the sight made even his stomach turn.

"Hey, boy, you boy…" shouted a grizzled, small filthy man with tobacco stains dripping down his beard. "Get on up now boy, move along." He wasn't speaking to one man, but a dozen men in chains and just for emphasis he was striking the back of the last man in line with a buggy whip.

That last man was being called to by one of the most beautiful women Henry had ever seen. Her hair had been pulled down for the upcoming sale and it fell long and curly to the back of her knees. It was not the same hair as the other chained women; it was highlighted with streaks of red-blond though it. Her skin was not as dark as those around her and as he got closer he could see that her eyes were like rich amber. She was small but in no way frail, the sleekness of her body belied the toned muscles, and she struggled against her captors. "Thomas!" she cried out at the bleeding back of the man being whipped in front of her.

"Quiet you, yellow bitch!" A tall, pasty man stepped in front of her as two other men held her arms. He ran his finger down the side of her face, across her throat and down into the open button at her neck. "I be setting to fetch a high price for you and the man what owns you won't want no nigger stud around you." The man took his thin-fingered claw like hand and wrapped it roughly around the woman's breast, as he did he pressed his pelvis against her and leaned in closely to her mouth. "Especially once they have had a taste of you."

In an unusual display of defiance the woman reared back and spit in his face, "That's all of me you or any other white man will taste!"

"You will taste all of me before morning and I will taste all of you, girly!" The spindly man pushed her hard to her knees and one hand began to fumble at his pants as his other hand came hard across her face.

Before Henry had even realized what he was doing; he had stopped the man's hand as it prepared for another blow. Henry's eyes had gone black and he growled, "I'm willing to pay a high price, if I can purchase her unbruised."

"Sale doesn't start until the morning." The half-hearted answer came. He was acutely aware of the possibilities, having sold his charges off early for a hefty profit, that this might be the sale that makes his night. However, the thought of punishing this mulatto wench for her high ways had already caused tightness in his groin. He took in the fine horse and the fine clothes of the man and weighed it against his desire to teach the woman the lesson he had taught many a slave. He stilled owed a debt of nearly a thousand dollars to his boss over the last nigger he had taught a lesson to and this man might be the answer to that debt.

Henry stared him straight in the eyes, "I don't care what time the sale starts. I want her; I want to purchase her now. I also want the male, Thomas."

"The boy you want will cost you two thousand, this yellow bitch will cost you twenty-five hundred, just because she will make you a fine girly to tame. I expect she will need to be ridden hard and often before she is broken."

Henry handed over the forty-five hundred dollars easily, knowing that he would need a legal bill of sale for his new property. Still, before the sun began to rise Henry was protected in a specially designed closet, the forty-five hundred dollars in his pocket and his purchases safe in the Monmouth cellar receiving room. The spindly, pasty slave trader had tasted like shit, but when you are new in town you have to take what you can get.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Monmouth House, April 1853

Henry had just finished dressing when there was a knock on his door. A middle aged woman stood outside his chamber, dressed in a black dress with a spotless white apron, "Master Fitzroy, I brung you your slaves." She shoved his purchases into the room like they were cheap suits and shut the door behind her.

Henry led them from the parlor into the bed chamber that he had claimed as his own. He looked at the large black man standing before him; he was nearly a foot taller than himself, and broad at the shoulder. "I would assume you to be Thomas?"

"Ya'sir, Masa'." Thomas kept his eyes on the rags that were his shoes.

The woman would not bow her head before him as Thomas had, but stood as tall as her small frame would allow with her shoulders back and her head erect. Henry circled her, taking in every inch of her, although she appeared defiant, his senses did not miss that her blood was rushing through her veins and she trembled imperceptibly at the knees. Her clothing had been damaged and was torn and dirty, but he could tell that the garment she wore had been of fine quality. This stood in deep contrast to the shabby, ill-fitting clothes that Thomas wore. Henry moved to her face and stared down into her liquid eyes.

"And your name would be?" She tilted her head up to his eyes when he spoke to her.

"My name is Celeste, Celeste Beauchamp."

"Beauchamp?" You are French?" In the months that Henry spent in New Orleans, he had never heard a slave introduce themselves with a surname.

"I am a Creole, sir. My father was Laurent Beauchamp of New Orleans."

"And your mother, Celeste? Who was she?" Henry questioned, this woman fascinated him and he wanted to know everything about her.

"Her name was Orlane. That is all that I know of her other than that she was a Creole woman, like me."

"How is it that you don't know your mother or her people?"

Celeste resisted the urge to fidget under his strong gaze and his interrogation. She had already said too much, something that she had been warned of by others like her, she should have behaved like the property she was. As hard as she tried to hide it she feared him and what he might be capable of, there was a danger that surrounded him. "She was sold, sir, before I was two."

Henry could sense the tension rising in Thomas; he was protective of this whip of a woman named Celeste. His goal was not to make an enemy of Thomas, but maybe a protector, so he rang for the upstairs maid; she opened the door softly after a knock and looked expectantly at her guest.

"I would like dinner delivered to my room. I would like a large tureen of that stew that I smell, extra bread and butter and both coffee and tea. Set my dining table in the parlor for three." She nodded, somewhat astonished.

"Will the Masa' be having company this evening?" She asked with her eyes on the floor.

Henry stepped across the room closer to her, he was used to dealing with servants although not usually in a harsh way, "Don't question…just do it. Knock at the chamber door when it is ready."

The young woman skittered away to do his bidding like leaves scattered by the wind. It wasn't long before he could hear a number of servants laying out crockery and the clink of fine silver. Quickly all was quiet and the small knock came on his door. Henry waited a moment before walking to open the parlor door, he held it for his guests, "Are you coming, or will you make me wait all evening?"

Thomas cast his eyes from the rag shoes on his feet to Celeste. He had spent the night holding her as close as their shackles would allow to protect her from the chill of the cellar. He was hungry, having been given only bits of bread and a bit of fat back for their day's meal. More than anything he wanted to tell her to be silent and to behave like the slave she was, instead of the way she was raised. He pushed his hand softly into her back and led her into the parlor, stopping at the door to allow their new Master to enter the parlor first.

Henry stared intently at him, but Thomas kept his head and eyes down. "Thomas, seat Celeste at the table and take a place for you."

Thomas moved quickly with instruction, as he was taught to do, and once settled he kept his eyes firmly down.

Henry settled himself at the table and began dishing large bowls of beef soup from the tureen and placed a stack of bread on the plate of each of their places. Celeste stood quickly and turned to the tea service at the side of the table.

"Coffee or tea, sir?" She asked regally.

"None for me, I'm not hungry. Thomas? Coffee or tea?" Henry attempted to pull the man's eyes to his, but Thomas would not allow it to happen.

"Thomas will have tea, sir. Coffee upsets his stomach." Celeste answered for Thomas and Henry was beginning to wonder if Thomas wasn't some sort of a half-wit, unable to think or communicate for himself.

"I want both of you to eat and eat well. You both look unnourished and it reflects poorly on me." Henry continued his somewhat demanding tone, "Thomas, I want you to hold your head up and look at me, I need a groom and I won't be employing an ignorant field hand to handle my prized Asima!"

Thomas looked up and did his best to meet his new owner's eyes, "Is that the Arabian's name, sir, Asima?"

"Arabian?" Henry's interest was piqued, "You know horses, Thomas?"

"Yes'ir, I knows horses, sir." Thomas' eyes sparkled for the first time and Henry was truly encouraged as the man's dark eyes met his own. "He is in the stable now, sir, turned over to Master Kitman's own groom."

Thomas quickly emptied his bowl and eyed the remaining stew hungrily; Henry reached for the ladle and dished him up another full bowl. Thomas nodded his gratitude and took another piece of bread from his plate before continuing.

"While you eat, I am going to tell you what I need, what I expect of you and what you will receive in return." Henry began now that he knew that he had Thomas' full attention. "I am a man of means and I do not like to be disturbed during the day. I prefer the nightlife of a city so I will have need of you only in the evening and early morning. My chamber is never to be disturbed during the day, I am a light sleeper and I become very angry when disturbed. In fact, the only time you are to enter my chamber is in the early evening when I leave or when the door is open. Is that understood?"

Wide-eyed both Thomas and Celeste nodded in agreement.

"Thomas, you are to be my groom and my footman. You will be responsible for running the errands during the day that I require. Do you read?"

Thomas stared in awe and stuttered, "nah, nah sir, it be a'gin the law for slaves to read and write or do figures."

Henry sighed, "Thomas, I didn't ask you about law, I asked you if you could read and I want you to be honest."

"Nah, sir, I can't."

"Celeste, you will be my chamber maid. You will also teach Thomas to read and write and how to do arithmetic. I also expect you to teach him to speak properly. This slave dialect is enough to grind on my nerves; I prefer to be around people who speak English well. Once that is taken care of you can teach him French as well in case I become bored and decide to return to France."

"I can't read, sir." Celeste spoke in a rush of panic. "A slave caught with the ability to read or write is enough to get them tied to the post and I don't speak much French, sir."

Henry smiled at her, he knew she was lying; her manner and her speech gave her away immediately last night. She was a woman who, at some time, had received an education.

"Don't worry Celeste, it will be our secret. Don't lie to me, I know you are educated and I know you aren't the slave girl you are pretending to be." Henry melted his blue eyes into hers and she shuddered involuntarily. "You two belong to me and to me alone; you are not to take orders from anyone else. You are to be honest with me at all times and I also want to know the relationship between you. That was quite a spectacle I observed last night. "

Celeste was beginning to feel the panic rising inside her. First her new master knew she was educated and now she was terrified she would find out that she was in love with Thomas and he loved her back. She had no desire to be part of any other man's chamber and she could feel the want that radiated off her new master. Normally she was the vocal one, but it was she who had lost her tongue and Thomas answered the question.

"Sir, I love Miss Celeste. She is my wife and I would prefer it to stay that way. I have been dishonest with you, sir. I read, I write and oui je parle Français. That is why you saw what you did last night. Our owner had discovered that Celeste and I had married, he had always wanted her for his own but she refused him no matter what it cost her. He decided that it was time to separate us, he knew that a woman of Celeste's beauty would fetch a very high price and he had debts that needed to be paid."

Henry threw back his brown curls and began to laugh. His worry about being saddled with a useless and ignorant man had been laid to rest and he was beginning to realize that this just might work out better than he hoped. Although he would love to feel the body of the fiery Celeste writhe beneath him and taste her as she reached the height of her passion, he now knew that he could strike a strong bargain.

"Thomas, I will make you a deal. You and Celeste may live in that small bedroom over there as man and wife. I will leave her untouched and protect her from all others that would desire her on the condition that you and she do exactly as you are told, keep quiet about my comings and goings and swear your loyalty only to me. I warn you, do not strike this bargain lightly, because if you break it I promise to become your worst nightmare."

Henry stretched his hand across the table to seal the bargain. Thomas, not accustomed to shaking hands with a white man, reached out cautiously, but took the offered bargain.

"I promise you, sir, I will follow your orders, stay silent and be loyal only to you. On my honor as a man and with the promise that you will protect my Celeste, I am your servant, sir, so long as my Celeste suffers no further."

Henry stared eye to eye with the man, there was sincerity there, and honesty and honor and Henry wondered if he had found more than a loyal servant, but a friend. However, Thomas could only hold up his end of the deal, Celeste would have to agree as well.

Henry turned his eyes to hers, which for the first time since he had met her were cast down and she was visibly trembling. Thomas had grasped the hands she held in her lap gently but firmly so Henry placed his forefinger under her chin and gently lifted her eyes to his. "Celeste," he spoke firmly but kindly, "do we have a deal?"

Celeste shook beneath his soft gaze and struggled to meet his soft blue eyes with her own, she fought to keep the tears at bay. What he was offering her was too good to be true. However, he spoke so gently to her that the hardness she displayed was crumbling around her. Could it be possible that this man would not harm her, could he be truthful that he would allow her and Thomas to be together and not take her into his own bed? Did he truly mean that he would protect her from other men as he had protected her last night?

"You are truthful, sir. This is not an affectation to make me trust you?"

"No, Celeste, the offer is genuine, I will leave you and Thomas together and you will not be expected to share my bed and I promise that you will never be forced to share yourself with anyone. All I ask for is your loyalty and your silence."

Almost unaware of what she was doing she offered her small hand to her new master. "We are agreed, sir" she spoke directly into his eyes.

"Then may I seal the bargain with a kiss of your hand?" Her eyes granted him permission and he brushed his lips lightly across the back of her hand.

"Now that these issues are decided, I have much for you to do tomorrow. I must speak with Mr. Kitman before he retires for the evening. It is my understanding that the room is ready for my staff although under the circumstances the bed is probably too small." Henry said with a knowing smile. "Stay here, I will be out for the evening. I will leave word for the upstairs servant that you are to be given anything you want."

With that Henry Fitzroy left to find his own dinner and to celebrate his sudden good fortune.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Henry knocked on the rear door of the large main house and was granted entrance by one of the numerous slaves sitting around a large kitchen table.

"Can I help you, Ma'sa?" Like all of the others on the estate she kept her eyes down and refused to meet his gaze.

"Is Mr. Kitman available? I would like to speak with him." Henry was led out of the sparse back hall and into the main home. The entry way had a grand double stairway that led upstairs and there were open pocket doors that offered access to a dining room and both a ladies parlor and a gentleman's parlor. The woman approached the only closed door and knocked softly.

A stout man with dark hair and a neatly trimmed beard slid the door open. Although the hour was late the desk in his study still had open ledgers scattered around the chair. "Good evening, Mr. Fitzroy, I am happy that you stopped by. I hope that your accommodations are acceptable?"

"Thank you, Mr. Kitman, the room is more than acceptable. I hope you don't mind my calling later than usual, but I need to ask a favor to get my slaves settled. I have only acquired them."

"I noticed that the arrangements did not mention that you had your own staff."

"I hope that there presence will not be an inconvenience. It was an impulse purchase."

"Of course, not, Mr. Fitzroy. My home is your home. I can place them in quarters if you would like." Mr. Kitman turned to a cabinet and poured himself and Henry a drink. "It is wise for a man of your position is wise to bring along his own slaves. However, as I am sure you were told, I have a large staff that is happy to meet your dietary needs with absolute discretion."

Henry accepted the snifter of rose amber liquid. He had no biological need for food or drink and was not affected by alcohol like a living man, but he did enjoy the flavor of a fine Cognac. "My servants do not know who I am, yet. How is it that you have come to shelter those like me?"

"My great-grandmother was turned and betrayed in Ireland. She was a widowed at a young age and had three small children to support. One of those women was my grandmother." He settled himself into a black leather library chair and offered Henry the one near him. "She had a large farmhouse but was left penniless paying off her husband's debts. She turned the farmhouse into an inn between Carlow and Dublin and she took in a man as a long term resident. He paid her well, more than her inn made in a year, and decided to trust him."

"I take it that he was not trustworthy?"

"No, he treated her and the children well so she did not see him for what he truly was. It wasn't until he had been there a year that he seduced her into his bed. She was not allowed a choice and he used his powers of persuasion to have his way with her. He began to feed from her nightly until he weakened her and she became ill. He offered her a tonic that he claimed would restore her health. It was his own blood."

"How did you hear this story?" Henry had heard these stories for centuries, vampires who choose to lead a life of deceit to gain and control victims. He also knew that sometimes the vampire was made out to be the evil one, even though the person turned may ask for it. Christina had manipulated Henry emotionally and sexually, but she had not taken anything he had not been willing to give. Looking back, had he been aware of all of the ramifications of his choice, he may have made a different path, but he doubted it.

"My great-granny told it to me herself, just before we fled Ireland when I was a boy."

"Fled Ireland?"

"The Deamhan Fola who turned her had moved in to Dublin, where my great-grandmother had bought a house. He wanted her territory, the town he had been living in had become suspicious of him. He called her out for who she was and our home was ransacked. She was dragged from her home in the middle of the day, I don't have to tell you what happened next."

Henry shivered, that is a fear that he himself knew well. "I'm sorry."

"It was a horrible thing to witness. She was a kind woman who made the choice to curb her appetites and feed without causing death or harm. To my knowledge she never turned another and protected those she loved. My father was accused of harboring evil and so we fled to America. I decided that, once I had the means, I would protect those who came with high recommendations, and that is how you came to be my guest. Natchez is protected territory. I offer you anything you need and I have a staff available to feed you, so long as you don't mind the taste of darkie blood and you don't kill any of them. They cost a great deal, as I am sure you know."

"I have lived long enough to know that the color of skin has nothing to do with the taste, so I am not particular in that respect."

"Very well, back to the business at hand, you needed something?"

"Yes, my servants will need to be properly clothed and given access to your pantry and kitchen. I will pay you for their upkeep, but they are mine and mine alone and they are to be left undisturbed. I also need a tailor sent. I will leave specific instructions. Thomas will be my footman and my groom, so he will need to meet with your own stable manager."

"Very well, sir. Although you don't need a tailor, I can provide them with fresh clothing."

"I appreciate that and for the time being that will work. However, I refuse to have them looking like beggars, so I would still like the finest tailor in the city. I was raised in England, and the appearance of one's servants reflects on the Master."

"As for Celeste, she is never to be out of our rooms unescorted. However, with an escort she is free to walk the gardens, but not to leave the property. She will be made aware of this. She is to be escorted only by Thomas and he is at leave to take her walking at his will." Henry sipped again from his snifter. "I want to thank you for your hospitality, it is most gracious."

"As I said before, Mr. Fitzroy, you come with high recommendation so that is why I have welcomed you into my home. I will ensure that Thomas meets with my stable manager Mr. Welton in the morning and I will send for my own tailor."

Henry set his glass on the table and rose, the men shook hands and Henry turned to leave.

"As I said before, sir. You don't have to leave, I have refreshment available for you."

"Thank you, Mr. Kitman, some other time perhaps. I am in the mood to go out for the evening, but I appreciate the offer."

Henry made his way through the spring night air the stables. He entered to find a stable boy napping in the corner. The young man jumped up as Henry entered.

"Would you like your horse, sir?" He could not have been 8 or 9, skinny, with feet that seemed too large for his body and gave him an awkward stance.

"Yes I would, and is there a stable manager, about?"

"He be in with a mare about to foal, I can fetch him."

Henry waited while his horse was saddled. The stable manager came to him immediately, "My name is Robert, sir. I am responsible for the horses at night."

"Very well, Robert. My groom Thomas will be caring for my Asima and his word will be the rule because he will have specific instructions as to her care. Mr. Kitman will discuss this with you and with Mr. Welton in the morning. Asima is a spirited horse and he does not care to be trifled with and I do not care to have him injured or misused in any way."

"I understand, sir. The boy saddling him now has a way with horses, but I will see to it personally if you would like."

Henry could hear the soft whispers from Asima's stall as the boy spoke gently to him. He could also hear the gentle wisp of the comb across Asima's back as he readied him for the saddle. "No, that is fine, I hear you have a horse in labor so I will leave you to your work."

The young boy arrived promptly with Asima, "He be a fine animal, sir. Just one of the finest I have had the pleasure of."

"You enjoy the stable?"

"Ya, sir, ya, sir." In the darkness the boy's wide-toothed smile stood out in the darkenss. "Master Kitman says that if I learn well I may one day be allowed to care for all of the horses. I mean, Yes, sir." The boy hung his head.

"What is your name, son?" Henry frowned slightly seeing him hide his obvious passion. It seemed somehow sad that this young man had to struggle to stuff his emotion when he truly did have a mastery of horses. Asima wasn't fond of most people, but he had obviously taken to the boy. Not only had he been willingly saddled by a stranger, but he was now rubbing his nose on the boy's neck.

"My name is Cuffey, sir." He couldn't stifle the giggle from the tickles on the back of his neck.

Henry stepped forward and took the reins of the big stallion. "You have done well, Cuffey, I think you will make a fine stable master one day." He reached into his pocket and drew out a penny. "I thank you for your service."

"I am not able to accept that, sir, although I appreciate the gesture." Cuffey eyed the penny as it glinted in the lamp light.

"Where I come from, a man with skill as a groom and footman is a highly regarded position. A man who wants his horse seen to with great care pays extra for that service. Take the penny, Cuffey."

Cuffey took the penny and slid it into his shoe. Before he could speak Henry had mounted Asima and they rode through the moonlight lit drive out towards downtown. Henry was starved; starved for more than blood. He arrived at a bordello on the edge of town, gave his horse to a stable boy and went inside.

The parlor glowed softly with frosted glass lamps. He spotted a young woman at the organ, playing a bawdy dancing tune for the other men in the parlor.

"May I join you?" He questioned.

"It is very hard to play when I am being watched, but I supposed you may. Would you like a drink, Mr.?" Her voice was soft, like a classical melody.

"Fitzroy, Henry if you please. I would like a drink, but I am more interested to know if you are available this evening?"

"I am available, would you like to come upstairs?" The young woman rubbed her leg seductively against Henry's as she continued to play.

"I would love to." Henry rose from the bench and tucked her arm under his. He quickly ushered her up the stairs into the quiet of a private room.

He was led into a room that was the picture of understated elegance. The four poster bed took up the center of the room and was placed on finely woven carpet. Two side tables, a vanity with a variety of fragrance bottles. More frosted glass lamps kept the light low and the room held a soft hint of lilac. The most impressive piece in the room was a square, grand piano that took up one wall and make the room feel slightly crowded.

"A piano in your room? Do you play anything besides dancing tunes?"

The woman moved gracefully to the stool and lifted the dust cover. She placed her fingers on the smooth ivory keys and began playing Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. As she played Henry knelt behind her and placed a soft kiss at the nape of her neck. The woman stopped playing and swiveled the piano stool to face him.

"No, don't stop playing."

"Are you here for a concert or for something else?"

Henry ran his hands down her arms across the burgundy silk ruffles on the sleeves of her evening gown. "Both." He swiveled the stool around and she resumed her concerto.

"What is your name?" He asked as he continued to lay gentle kisses across her back and began working the laces of the velvet gown.

"Angelina." She answered.

"Don't stop playing, Angelina."

Henry felt her heart begin to race as he continued unlacing her gown. With each spot of new flesh he exposed he kissed. It was a kind of torture for him that he enjoyed, denying himself his longing; his desire to bite and to feed. Angeline continued to play as Henry reached up to the pins that held her long, blond hair into place and as he pulled the last pin her hair fanned around her in a mass of curls. When Henry had her free of the dress he stopped her hands on the piano and lifted up on his knees to take her lips. He began softly, gently kissing her and pulling back and she leaned into him asking for more.

Henry stood quickly, taking her with him. The dress fell from her shoulders into a heap at the floor and he quickly sent her undergarments into the pile. Placing his arm underneath her legs he lifted her body and settled them both on the bed.

His mouth worked a steady path up and down her body and she writhed beneath him and squirmed when he stopped to lick and tease her taught nipples. His hands slipped into the downy white hair between her legs and she pushed herself against him.

She received him easily, quickly and her body struggled against his in an effort to gain more of him. He pinned her hands against the bed with a lover's touch and brought his mouth down to the creamy hot flesh of her neck. She was ready and he wanted to taste her in her passion. Henry placed his now exposed fangs against her skin and bit, Angelina cried out, not from the pain of his bite, but from the moment of her own passion. He sealed the small wound with a lick and moved to the other side, it was his turn and as he reached the height of his climax he bit again. He shuddered at the taste of her, the smell of her and the passions that rocked his own body.

This was dessert at its finest.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Henry smiled at Angelina as she lifted her body over his to take his mouth. "Mmmmm, I should pay you for that one." She kissed him one more time before rolling out of bed to grab her robe.

Henry laughed and gathered his own clothing, he didn't normally pay for blood or for passion, but this was one place he knew he would be visiting again. "I may have to stop and see you again, if that is acceptable?" Henry asked.

"Of course, I am here every night at the piano. Now I have to hurry up and get back downstairs, I am sure that someone is missing the music by now." Angelina took him by the hand and led him toward the door. "But you be sure to come on back, honey; any time you want."

With that the door closed behind him and Henry went to the stable to retrieve his horse. He rode back to Monmouth House slowly, relishing the taste of her sweet blood that lingered in his mouth.

He was greeted at the stable by Cuffey, who was quite excited to see the beautiful Arabian. Cuffey took the reins to lead the horse to the stable and Henry went inside. He found Thomas and Celeste waiting for his return.

Celeste spoke first, "Is there anything you need, sir?"

"Not at this time, I will be turning in for the day. Tomorrow, Thomas, you will be meeting first thing with the stable manager, Mr. Welton and his evening manager, Robert. You will also be meeting with Mr. Kitman's tailor in the morning." Thomas nodded and Henry continued. "I will leave an envelope on the table with complete instructions for Mr. Welton and for the tailor. I have decided to purchase a carriage and a team of horses. If I decide to leave I will need a way to bring you along and traveling by carriage is more comfortable. The instructions for the carriage are in the envelope, along with enough money to pay for the carriage and the tailor. Mr. Welton will know that neither of you are to purchase the horses in my name. I want to be sure that I am getting the best. Have any horses that you consider acceptable held in the stable for me to examine. I trust you, but I don't know this Welton."

"Celeste, I have given Mr. Kitman strict instructions that you are not to leave the rooms unescorted and that Thomas should be available to escort you at your whim. You are allowed to go walking anywhere on the grounds with Thomas, but never by yourself." Henry stared her deep in the eyes and they began to darken. "Do you understand me, Celeste, you are never to leave the room without Thomas at your side, and this is for your protection."

Celeste wasn't sure what she saw, but she was suddenly struck with the notion that Master Henry was very protective and wanted Thomas with her anytime she left. She was pleased with that, "Yes, sir. I will send for Thomas." She said with barely a conscious effort on her part.

"Then I have no need of you this evening, I am going to turn in and I suggest that you do the same. Tomorrow will be a busy day for you." Henry turned on his heel and strode to his private room and firmly shut and bolted the door.

"I don't know, Celeste? I am not sure about our situation?" Thomas led her to their private room. "He seems kind enough, but I wonder what he is up to?"

"You are suspicious of everyone and everything. Nothing anyone does is good enough for you. Master Henry seems like a kind gentleman with enough money that we can live in some comfort for a change. He promised that if we did our jobs and kept quiet that he would keep us safe."

"He promised he would keep you safe, Celeste. That is the only reason I struck a bargain with the man. There is something about him that I don't trust and I am not sure why." Thomas ran his hand over his forehead and through his short, black hair. "We have been sworn to silence, but silence about what? I'm not sure I like the way he looks at you and I don't want you hurt again."

"He has done nothing but kiss my hand, and you were there to see it. It was the mark of a gentleman.

"I guess you're right. I just don't want you to suffer again. You trust too easily, you always have." Thomas turned her to him and gave her a gentle hug.

"Well, I was raised to trust and you were raised to fear." Celeste shook her head. "It never occurred to me that one day my father would die and it would send both of us into those horrible places. I just have to believe this isn't going to be another nightmare. For now, we are together and that is all that matters."

Thomas settled himself on the small bed after Celeste had climbed in to the wall side. He helped her to tuck the covers around herself and then he snuggled his back up against her. Celeste pressed herself to him and she sighed, "This is nice, to feel safe again like this." Her words fell on deaf ears and she laughed to herself, Thomas had already begun to snore.

Morning came early, too early, and Celeste pressed her hands against Thomas' back to wake him up. They washed and dressed and once in the parlor rang the bell for the upstairs housemaid. Breakfast arrived with the tailor, who was carrying yards of cloth and a large trunk of ready-made items.

"It is my understanding that Mr. Fitzroy is need of a tailor this morning." The man was fidgety, edgy and refused to make eye contact with either of them. Celeste walked to the table and handed him the envelope.

"Master Henry asked us to give you this. He said that you would follow the instructions written inside."

The tailor opened the envelope and hurriedly read the note, he huffed and snorted and read the note again. "According to this, I am to provide you with outfits of clothing. Thomas," He looked the big man up and down with distain, "You will need to have two suits for acting as a footman, two suits of everyday clothing and coveralls for working in the stable and two pairs of boots." The tailors shoulders and chest puffed out and he danced about like a sparrow in a puddle. "And for the woman, I am to provide you with a full trousseau including a fine riding costume and hat with a dark veil?" The tailor pulled the money out of the envelope and suddenly his huffing and disbelief came to an end. He opened his trunk and pulled out his tape measurer and paper.

After his fitting, Thomas hurried out to the stables to meet with Mr. Welton and Robert about his Master's horse. He inhaled deeply the smell of fresh hay and horses and the well-made leather saddles. The stable was large, far larger than he was used to and the attached carriage house had room for several wagons and carriages.

"Mr. Welton, sir?" Thomas called out softly in the half-lit stable and he saw a tall, lean man step out of the last stable. Thomas moved towards him.

"You must be Thomas, Mr. Fitzroy's groom." Mr. Welton offered his hand and Thomas took it. "This is Robert, the night manager." Thomas shook Robert's hand with more confidence, he was not used to shaking hands with a white man, but it felt good to know that Mr. Kitman's manager seemed kind.

"Mr. Fitzroy asked that I come speak with you about purchasing a carriage and a team to pull it."

"Yes, we have arranged for a carriage to be delivered, if it suits Mr. Fitzroy's needs we will be happy to make space in the carriage house. I also have a horse broker in town that has several fine horses for sale."

"Thank you, Mr. Welton." Thomas nodded. "Now if you will just show me Asima's stall and tack I will get to work."

Thomas spent the morning cleaning and polishing his Master's saddle and the rest of his tack. It gleamed in the hazy light of the stable. Asima was brushed from head to tail and her hooves were cleaned and polished. He cleaned away all of the dirty hay and replaced it with fresh. She was truly a beautiful animal and the work was no chore to Thomas. He stood up from the rake and setting it aside he stretched out his back muscles.

"Thomas, the carriage is here." Mr. Welton called out and the two of them went out into the bright sunlight to inspect it.

It was a brand new carriage and just about the finest that Thomas had ever seen. The seat for the driver sat high above the tongue and was not just a hard wood seat, but it had a thick cushion on both the seat that the back. The carriage was all black with fine gold paint lines around the windows and doors. Thomas walked around the carriage and admired the craftsmanship that it took to build it. The inside was spacious and the seats were covered in rich black velvet.

"The carriage will do nicely, I believe that Mr. Fitzroy will approve." Thomas said to Mr. Welton. "I have rarely seen a finer one."

"I would agree with you Thomas, the horses are also for sale, they are a perfect set of 3 year old Percheron's broken to drive and so gentle that a lady can handle them.

Thomas approached the horses with some caution. They were velvety black, tall and broad, at least 17 hands high. "I would like to see how they drive." Thomas said to the driver and he lifted himself up to the high seat. Thomas set out at a walk and slowly increased their speed as they moved down the long drive. The horses were like liquid mercury as their muscles rippled under the harnesses and the sunlight caused their hair to glisten. The returned to the stables and Thomas looked them inspected them from teeth to hooves to tail. "I believe that Mr. Fitzroy will find these horses acceptable. However, I won't be able to give you an answer until he is available."

The horses were pastured for the evening and given fresh water and clean hay. The only thing for Thomas to do now was to wait until Mister Henry was up and about. Thomas slipped out of his stable coveralls and boots, cleaned up at the pump and went inside to take Celeste for an afternoon walk.

Thomas stepped inside their rooms and stopped in awe at the vision before him. Celeste was wearing a green silk dress with yellow trim. The bodice fit absolutely perfect against her small frame with a double row of buttons to the fichu lace at her collar. "You look beautiful, Celeste, just like I remember you as a child."

"The tailor Mr. Kitman sent was quite surprised, I think he assumes that Mr. Henry likes his slaves for more than housekeeping." Celeste blushed. She felt absolutely beautiful for the first time in a very long time. "Have you come to take me walking, sir."

Thomas offered his arm, "If you will permit me, ma'am. It would be my honor."


	5. Chapter 5

Blood Loss 5

Henry felt the breath return to his lungs as the sun set. He was in no hurry this evening to be anywhere, so he rolled and stretched in the silk sheets in his specially made closet room.

Mr. Kitman immediately came to his mind. Things seemed normal, but he had rarely heard of the living creating a sanctuary for a vampire. In the centuries he had lived, he often used living humans to protect him and in exchange for their loyalty, he gave them everything they could want.

Henry washed and dressed and then messed up the neatly made bed, it was too early for his charges to suspect what he was. He opened his chamber door to find Thomas and Celeste sitting comfortably on the couch. Thomas was reading the paper and Celeste was doing needlework. "Well if this isn't the picture of domestic tranquility."

"Good evening, Mr. Henry." Thomas stood up from his chair.

"Good evening has the horses and coach arrived?" Henry waved Celeste back to her needle work and crossed to pour himself a snifter of brandy.

"They have, sir. They are waiting outside for your approval."

"How do you think they look?" Henry asked Thomas before settling comfortably into his chair. He couldn't take his eyes off Celeste; perhaps he would stay in for dinner this evening.

"They are beautiful, sir. Two perfectly matched black Percherons, not a spot of white on them. They are fast enough to travel quickly but strong enough to pull a heavy load. I don't think you will find much finer, sir."

"Did you drive them?"

"Yes sir, I drove them and they are fine, fine animals. I looked them over as well, three years old, good teeth, solid hooves. The coach is plenty large enough for 4, brand new with a large trunk space in the rear and all of the tack is double sewn leather. It is light but sturdy."

"Shall we go have a look?" Henry set his snifter down and gathered his coat. Thomas followed behind him as they made the walk to the stable. Cuffey met them at the door.

"Good evening Mr. Fitzroy, Thomas!" Cuffey had already taken to the new groom in the stable. They had spent the afternoon brushing the coach horses for Mr. Fitzroy's inspection. "The horses are picketed out in the side pasture, so you can watch them run, if you like sir. The coach is in the carriage house."

"Thank you, Cuffey, would you like to come with us?" Henry asked. He didn't know what it was but there was something deeply endearing about the child. Cuffey skipped just ahead of the pair.

"There they are, sir?" Cuffey's white teeth glittered in the moonlight. "I have a long rope, would you like to see them gallop." Cuffey didn't wait for an answer but ran to take the first horse and attached it to the heavy rope that he carried. The horse began to run in a circle, "Look at that action, sir. It is just like he is floating!"

Cuffey exercised first one and then the other. Just as Thomas said, they were a fine pair of horses.

"Thomas, the horses are perfect, thank you. You may pay for them in the morning. Now let's go see the coach."

Thomas opened the door of the carriage house for his Master and led him to the coach. Henry inspected it, opened the doors and tested the seats. "Thomas, how are you at woodworking?"

"I know a bit, sir." Thomas felt the coach was perfect as is.

"I would like you to modify the rear seat. I have some rather precious cargo that I like to hide from potential thieves." Henry handed him a piece of paper that he had written on. "I would like you to create a double box under the rear seat, completely light proof and unable to be detected. Can you do that?"

Thomas looked at the drawings and looked with curiosity at the man beside him. "I can do it, sir? I am just wondering what you would carry that would need to be protected from the light?"

"I want to be sure that it is hidden, I will take responsibility for hiding it, I just need you to follow my instructions to the letter."

"Yes, sir, of course." Thomas tucked the paper into his jacket pocket. "Is tomorrow soon enough?"

"Yes, it can wait for tomorrow. Tonight I simply need Asima saddled. Then you may return to Celeste for your dinner."

Thomas hurried to the stable to find that Cuffey had already begun to saddle the large Arabian. "I thought that Mr. Fitzroy might go out again tonight."

"Thank you, Cuffey, he is going out." Thomas grabbed the light English saddle and threw it over Asima's sleek back. "I also have a job that you could help me with tomorrow, if you like. I need to do some work on the coach and Robert told me you like to help mend the stall fences. I could use a young man who is good with tools."

"I would like that Thomas, if it is alright with Mr. Welton!" Cuffey smiled and nodded with excitement.

"I will speak with Mr. Welton on your behalf. Mr. Kitman has given him instructions that say that anything Mr. Fitzroy needs is to be provided." Thomas turned the saddled horse over to Henry and they watched as he rode down the lane and into the night.

"Are we making a hiding box?" Cuffey asked.

Thomas turned to him in amazement. "What do you know about that?"

"We always modify the coaches of Mr. Kitman's guests with a hiding box. Will this one be under the seat or in a false floor?"

"In the seat?" Thomas sat down on the stable bench. "Do you know what the boxes are for?"

"I heard Mr. Welton talking to Mr. Kitman about them. Once the boxes are built the carriage and the horses are usually sold for transporting runaways back from the north. Once I heard them scuffling in the tack room and a strange man's voice saying that he had free papers. I never saw him though."

Thomas couldn't imagine Mr. Fitzroy being involved in the slave trade. After all, he had saved him and Celeste from separation, or worse. "What about the carriage owners, are they part of this?"

"No, they have usually left by then. I don't know why they leave such fine horses and coaches behind though?" Cuffey pondered. "Not long after someone new comes to stay. Mr. Fitzroy is the first one that has come with his own staff, though."

Thomas thought about the plans in his coat pocket and about why coaches were purchased, modified and then sold. It didn't make any sense, yet. Of course, trading in slaves was a very high profit business, especially if they were stealing those with free papers and then selling them south out of the Natchez markets.

"You know, Cuffey, it is nearly supper time. Miss Celeste and I take our meals in Mr. Fitzroy's private dining room. I am sure there is plenty. Would you like to join us for dinner?"

"Thank you, Thomas! I would love to!" Cuffey shuffled foot to foot like an excited puppy.

Thomas led the way back to their chambers. Celeste was already laying out the dinner plates and setting a bowl of roast beef, potatoes and carrots on the table. Fresh bread and newly churned butter were in cut glass bowls on the serving cart. She turned when Thomas and Cuffey entered the room. "Well, who is this young man?"

"My name is Cuffey, ma'am. I work in the stables with Mr. Thomas." Cuffey stared straight at his toes. He had not expected a fine lady, but a slave, like Thomas and himself.

"Are you hungry, Cuffey?" Celeste spoke softly to try to draw his eyes up.

"Smells real good, ma'am." Cuffey licked his lips in anticipation.

"Good. Then pull yourself up to chair and eat. I know that I am starving." Celeste put her hand on Cuffey's shoulder and he raised his eyes to hers. Celeste dished both of the men at her table hearty servings before sitting down.

"Cuffey, this is my wife Celeste. She sees to Mr. Fitzroy's chamber and to our meals."

"Nice to meet you ma'am." Cuffey said around the bite of bread in his mouth.

"I'm glad that Thomas brought you to dinner, he has said that you have the makings of a fine groom or footman one day." Cuffey beamed at the compliment. "Where are your people, son?"

"I have no people, ma'am; Mr. Kitman bought me and my mama together about 4 years ago. We were here for two tobacco seasons and then she was up and gone one day. I haven't seen her since. Mr. Kitman put me in the stable under Mr. Robert and that is where I have been ever since."

"Where did she go? I can't see her leaving a fine son like you." Celeste was afraid to hear the answer. Mr. Kitman had been very accommodating to Mr. Fitzroy, but sometimes accommodations didn't extend to property.

"I never did find out. She was called to the main house one evening and never came back. I always thought that she must have displeased Mr. Kitman in some way and he sold her South at the market."

Thomas couldn't help but grow sad at this young boy's story. "So where do you stay, how do you eat?"

"I sleep in the hayloft; it is warm and comfortable most of the time. Mr. Welton and Robert bring me food all of the time, not as good as this, but it fills the stomach. Mr. Fitzroy gave me a penny the other day and I traded it for a blanket, so it is much nicer up there now."

Celeste had set her fork down, all of a sudden; she just didn't feel so well. "You mean to tell me that no one looks after you? How old are you?"

"Last time I was with my mama on my birthday she said I was 7, so I guess I must be around 9 now. Mr. Kitman said I was old enough to take care of myself and be of some use. So I have the hayloft and Mr. Welton and Robert to help me." Celeste reached over and refilled Cuffey's empty plate with beef and placed a couple of extra slices of bread on his plate.

Henry had tied Asima to a post near the theater. He thought about going back to see Angelina, but he wasn't in the mood for entanglements right now. Truth be told, he wondered if he shouldn't have just dined in this evening. Normally, he loved the night but something just didn't seem to fit. It was all too easy. Natchez was a thriving town with plenty of people, yet it was closed territory. His landlord knew what he was and had made arrangements for him to be extremely comfortable during his stay, but why were there no other vampires here? In a city like Natchez, so filled with life and the coming and going of strangers, this place should be filled with his sort.

Henry's attention was turned as the theater was letting out for the evening. He slipped into the shadows, waiting for the right moment. He was in the mood for a quick snack and to taste the fear that comes with a sudden assault. Fear wasn't normally his favorite flavor, but sometimes he needed it to keep the monster inside him satisfied.

The play must have been a comedy based on the energy and laughter in the crowd. He waited in the shadows, looking for something special. A young woman, unescorted, was waiting by the street lamp. It was rare to find a woman unescorted in the South, especially one of privilege. His eyes turned to obsidian and he growled low in his throat as he slipped up behind her and pulled her into the alley. "Don't scream."

The young woman stared at him with confused eyes. She was terrified but couldn't seem to make a sound. Henry ran his hands under her evening shawl and down across her bare arms. Her skin was like silk, much softer than the heavy velvet brocade dress that she was wearing. "Why are you alone?"

"My driver is getting my coach." She whispered into his eyes.

"You should never be alone. Bad things can happen to a woman alone. From now on you will always have an escort." Henry pushed his body against her and felt the fear rising inside of her. He pushed aside the gown to reveal the soft skin at her collarbone and bit down firmly. She leaned against him as he fed, unable to hold herself up, and he tasted her terror at what might happen next.

Henry released his fangs and gently closed the wound with his tongue. Pulling himself away from her, he supported her with his arms and led her back to the street light. "I will wait for your driver with you, miss. He should be throttled for leaving you unescorted."

Her head was reeling and she couldn't seem to understand what had just happened. "Thank you, sir. However it was my idea to send my driver for my coach. My date was ill this evening but I decided to come anyway and sit with friends."

"Then they aren't very good friends if they left you unaided. It is a good thing that I came along to protect you. You will go home and you will sleep. You will remember not to wait alone." Just as he finished her coach pulled up and her driver got down from the seat to retrieve her.

"Good night, sir." She said with a whisper. "Thank you for waiting with me."

"Good night, miss. I hope your dreams are pleasant." Henry smiled at her and kissed her hand before closing the coach door.


	6. Chapter 6

Henry arrived back at the stables to find no one waiting for him. He called out for Cuffey but there was no answer, so Henry took Asima to his stall and took off his saddle for the night. Daylight was coming quickly and Henry had little time, so he strode off to his chamber to send Thomas to finish caring for Asima.

The door opened with a bang that startled both Thomas and Celeste. Henry took note of the sleeping form on the couch. "So this is why I had to unsaddle my own mount this evening?"

Celeste rose to take her Masters coat, "Yes, sir. We are sorry, but he has nowhere to go and no one to watch over him."

"He has somewhere to be, in the stable." Henry said with distaste. He was feeling perturbed and he didn't care who he took it out on.

"Sir, if I may have a word with you about the box?" Thomas started without waiting for permission. "Cuffey told me tonight that he has seen many of these boxes built."

"What of it?" Many people have things that they wish to hide." Henry turned to face Thomas, he could feel the sunrise and he was beginning to feel the drowsiness that preceded his daily death.

"Sir, Cuffey also told me that the people disappear and leave behind their horses and coaches."

"Just work on the box, Thomas, I want it done as soon as possible. I will deal with the rest of it tonight, for now, I just want to sleep." Henry hardly gave it a second thought before bolting the door to his chamber and curling into his closet for the day.

Thomas picked up his own coat, woke Cuffey and together they went out to the stable to see to the horses and to begin work on the hiding box.

Henry woke up in the same foul mood that he had gone to bed in. He had not been in this bad of a mood for a very long time but he was sure that it had something to do with his host. Henry messed up the bed in his chamber before opening the door and pouring himself a glass of wine.

"Good evening, sir." Thomas said in a hurried tone, he had upset his Master last night and he didn't want a repeat performance. "We have most of the work on the box done, if you would like to come see it. Cuffey is out in the stable ready to saddle Asima for you."

Henry took a long drink off the warm, sweet wine. "You may send an upstairs servant to fetch Cuffey, I am sure he will be hungry. At the same time, tell the upstairs maid that I would like one of her servants to deliver my dinner to my room this evening."

"I would be happy to bring you a tray, sir?" Celeste wasn't sure why a maid was being asked to do her own work.

"No, Celeste, just ring for the upstairs maid and I will speak with her personally." Celeste hurried to do his bidding and soon there was a knock at the door.

"You needed something, sir?" A petite older woman with skin asked.

"Yes, I would like to dine in this evening and Mr. Kitman said that I should speak to you about it."

"Of course, sir, I will send a servant up with a tray immediately. Would you like it set up in your chamber?"

"That would be fine." Henry dismissed her with a wave and turned back to Thomas. "I won't have need of you this evening, so you may feel free to turn in if you like."

Henry walked back into his chamber and shut the door. Looking out the tall window into the night he balanced from foot to foot. He felt restless. It wasn't long before the bell rang outside of his chamber and he opened the door to a young woman carrying a tray. She entered without a word, set the tray on the table and turned to face the man who had summoned her.

Henry prowled around her like a cat. "You know why you are here?"

"Yes, sir." She spoke with her eyes to the ground. Henry stepped up in front of her and lifted her face to his. Her eyes were like black pools they were so dark and her skin looked like melted chocolate and was smooth as silk. She was petite, tiny even, and he felt her quiver slightly.

"Are you doing this willingly, or are you being forced by Kitman?" Henry wanted to be sure that his benefactor wasn't providing him with meals that were unwilling.

"I've done this before, sir. You aren't my first." She spoke softly but with confidence.

"I'm not your first what?" Henry inquired.

"My first Deamhan, sir."

"Deamhan? Do you know what a Deamhan is child?" Henry was amazed to hear the same Celtic word used by Mr. Kitman. The word was kin to the word Demon and Henry didn't like being compared to foul creatures.

"You are a vampire, sir." She tried not to shiver, but Henry picked up on the rise in her blood pressure and the swiftness of her heartbeat. It was intoxicating to him.

"So you have been with others, like me?"

"A few times, sir."

Henry continued to pace around her, like a cougar stalking a deer. "Did they hurt you?"

"Not usually, sir." She was openly shivering now and her eyes were closed. She felt somewhat unsteady on her feet.

"What is your name?" Henry continued his interrogation.

"Laney, sir. My name is Laney." He could feel her knees becoming weaker as they spoke; he lifted her gently and carried her to the bed.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Laney." Henry whispered in her ear as he ran his hand across her exposed arms. He began to slowly undo the buttons of her dress and as he removed each button he slid his hands up underneath her camisole to her bare skin. She wore no corset, but he found that to be common among the servant class.

Henry moved her hair at the base of her neck and breathed deep. She was freshly washed and smelled of honeysuckle and lye soap. It was not at all unpleasant and he began to lay gentle kisses along her neck. He reached the nape of her neck and stopped. There was a large scar across the right side. He could feel the fear rising inside her and so he stopped and raised himself over her. He ran his finger across the scar and looked into her eyes. "What happened here?"

"My first Deamhan." She shivered violently beneath him.

"He must have nearly killed you." Henry spoke with a sympathetic softness as he began to move his hand beneath her dress to pull gently at her camisole strings.

"Yes, sir. It took a while to recover." As Henry's hands gently worked at her flesh he could feel her open to him.

"I'm not a Demon, Laney, and I won't do what he did to you."

"I am here to serve you, sir, in whatever you please."

"I am here to give you pleasure as well, it doesn't have to be one-sided." Henry deftly untied the string on her pantalettes and slipped his fingers into the moistening curls. "I enjoy this so much more if you are experiencing passion with me."

Laney groaned and opened her legs to his firm touch. Henry lifted her gently off the bed and removed her dress. He pushed open the strings of her camisole and took her breast into his mouth and began to suckle. She stiffened, expecting a bite, so he released her nipple and moved to give equal attention to her other breast. She relaxed slightly against him and he pushed the camisole off her shoulders and threw it in a heap on the floor. He kissed his way down her body until she began to tremble with passion. She raised her hips for him and he slid her pantalettes down to join the camisole on the floor. Henry's mouth touched every part of her body and she squirmed beneath him. She pulled at the sheets and twisted her head on the pillow as he pleasured her. Henry sank his teeth into the soft flesh at her thigh as his hands worked at her moist flesh and she was unaware of the bite, crying out in pleasure as he brought her to her climax.

Quickly, Henry rolled his body on top of her and took her mouth with an almost violent yearning. She yielded to him, opened her mouth to his tongue as he plundered every bit of her. Finally, ready to take his own pleasure he pressed himself against the soft flesh between her thighs. He entered her quickly, too quickly, and he wasn't sure who was more shocked, himself or Laney.

"I thought you said that you had been with others, Laney?" Henry spoke gently, for now was not the time to be demanding.

"I have been fed on before, sir. I did not lie to you." Laney gasped, the pain was beginning to subside, but he still impaled her.

Henry's eyes darkened and his fangs showed, "Are you here of your own freewill, or are you being forced."

"I serve Master Kitman. I do as he tells me."

"Then no one has ever touched you like this, you were a virgin?"

"Yes." Her voice was so much of a whisper that only his extraordinary hearing would have picked it up.

"Do you want me to stop?" Henry looked her directly in the eyes and continued to use his mind to gain the truth.

"No." Laney returned his gaze deeply and Henry's eyes returned to their usual blue.

"Laney, I'm sorry, you should have told me. I could have just fed from you; I didn't have to take your maidenhood."

Laney pressed her hips against his and began to thrust against him. The passion rose inside of him again, since he had taken her virginity, the least he could do was make it as wonderful as possible.

Henry pulled himself from her gently and began to move within her. Her passage was tight and narrow and he could smell the blood from her torn maidenhead. It was all he could do to control himself while he moved slowly within her. He rolled to his back, taking her with him, so that she was mounted above him.

"What do I do, sir?"

"Do what feels good to you." Henry choked out. He was afraid that he would only hurt her further if he allowed himself to control what came next.

Laney lifted herself above him and Henry placed his hands around her tiny waist to support her. She began to move herself quickly, up and down his hard shaft. Henry strained against her and she brought her arms down to his chest to gain leverage. He may be her first, but she was a quick study and he wasn't sure how much more he could take. She ground her hips against him and she began to pant with the exertion. Henry stopped her, cradled her to his chest and rolled her onto her back. He lifted her legs around his waist to lock them behind him and began to push himself into her tight cavity over and over. He felt the passion rise in her again and before she realized it he had bitten into the soft flesh at the neck and she cried out as he fed from her. He tasted her passion as she climaxed again and he knew that his time has come as well. He pulled himself back from her neck and took her by her hips and entered her over and over and over. Laney grabbed the spindles on the brass bed to hold her in place and lifted her hips to his so that he could go deeper into her.

Henry fell forward with his climax and pinned her wrists to the bed. He bit again taking even more of her into him and she cried out.

Henry had not had a virgin in many years, he made it a point to avoid them when he could, and he preferred women of experience. However, Laney's innocence and acceptance was an intoxicating mixture that he could not resist. At the same time he was flooded with a temporary remorse, it was not like him to take a sexual partner who was not willing.

"Are you alright, Laney?" Henry asked cautiously. The other problem he found with virgins is that they often developed a fixation with him as their first and he was hardly a one woman man.

"I think so, sir." Laney closed her legs gently feeling a great deal of soreness there.

"Was Mr. Kitman aware that you were a virgin, did he order you up here or did you only expect to be fed on by a monster?"

"I do as I am told by Mr. Kitman. I don't ask questions. Are you going to feed from me now?"

Henry laughed gently, "I have already fed from you; three times in fact. I promised that I wouldn't hurt you. At least I didn't intend to hurt you."

"Then I had best be going." Laney sat up to gather her things and to get dressed. Henry watched her from the bed as she pulled on her pantalettes.

Henry stood up and put on his silk robe. He stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders and held her steady against his body. He ran his hands across her breasts that were still exposed to him. "I would love to taste you one more time tonight. But this time I want it to be because you want to, not because you belong to Mr. Kitman." Henry whispered against her hair.

Laney felt her knees go weak and she leaned her body against his. This wasn't what she had expected it to be. This man was not the monster that she had been prepared for; there was something gentlemanly, almost noble, about him. She wrapped her bare arms around herself, holding his hands at her breasts while he massaged them gently. She turned her neck to the side and he brushed the hair away exposing the vein to his eyes.

"Is that a yes?" Henry asked and she nodded her head in agreement. Henry lowered his mouth to her neck and lightly pierced her flesh to bring just a bit of blood to his mouth. He sucked slowly and gently and she went compliant against his body. He could taste her body was filling with desire and he considered taking her back to his bed.

Without warning the door to the chamber burst open and Henry growled at the sudden intruder. A terrified Celeste took in the scene before her, a half-naked woman, the bloody sheets, and her master's black eyes all before screamed and fell to the floor.


	7. Chapter 7

Celeste's piercing scream brought Thomas running to Henry's chamber door. Still in his arms, Henry turned Laney's naked body to his chest and wrapped a blanket around her. There was still a small amount of blood dripping from the fresh wound at her neck that Henry had not had a chance to close. Henry placed Laney gently on the bed and went to pick up Celeste and take her into the other room. Scooping her up, Thomas followed still gasping at the blood trickling from the neck of the woman on his Master's bed.

Henry laid Celeste on the couch and turned to a confused Thomas. Just as he was about to speak Celeste sat up and tried to run, in her frightened state she didn't make it far and ended up in Henry's arms.

"Let her go, sir!" Thomas stepped forward with a fury he didn't know he had inside him. He wasn't sure what he had just witnessed but he wasn't about to let Celeste be taken.

"Thomas, I want you to sit down." Henry's eyes darkened and against his will Thomas took the chair next to the couch. Henry turned his attention to Celeste, "Hush, you are going to be fine, you aren't afraid." Celeste relaxed in his arms and Henry placed her back on the couch.

Celeste continued to stare at him with fear. She wasn't sure why, but the images running through her mind of blood were clear. "What are you?"

Henry poured each of them a glass of wine and allowed his eyes to darken, "Drink your wine. I will explain everything."

Henry returned to the bedroom and helped Laney to finish dressing. He gently licked the still oozing bite to stop the bleeding. "I hope you enjoyed yourself a little bit this evening."

Laney smiled up at him, she couldn't help it. His blue eyes were spellbinding and for the first time she wasn't afraid of what her Master, Mr. Kitman, required of her. "I'm fine." She couldn't stop the flush that came to her skin and the images of what he did to her burned so fresh in her mind. "I don't know what to say."

Henry leaned in and whispered in her ear, "You don't have to say anything. I would like to see you again. I promise that next time I won't hurt you. I'm sorry I hurt you tonight, if I had known I would have simply fed from you. Go now and rest." Gently he laid a kiss on her forehead and she left the room.

Henry had never intended to have to explain to his servants what he was. It was his intent to keep them in the dark but he knew now that he needed to explain to them so that they would not be afraid. If he intended to keep them, and he did, they would need to trust him so that they would be his protectors. Too many times he had seen vampires done to death by those that served them and he would not allow that to happen. Either they would protect him and what he was or they would have to die.

Henry picked up his own glass of wine and sat looking at Thomas and Celeste. Their eyes were wide and he could hear the fear rushing through their blood.

"What kind of monster are you?" Celeste was the first to speak.

"I am no monster, Celeste. Have I ever harmed you or Thomas?"

"No, but I saw you. I saw you with your mouth on that girl's neck, the blood trickling down." Celeste was visibly trembling and it was evident that her will was too strong to completely erase the memory of what she saw. Even if he did erase the majority of the memory, parts of it may still remain and it would be a danger to him.

Thomas was staring at him with a look of disgust. There was fear in Thomas but that fear was being overridden by a desire to protect his Celeste. Thomas' muscles were wound tight and Henry was concerned that he could spring at any moment. Even now Thomas' eyes searched the room for a weapon. For this reason, Henry sat very still and very relaxed. He wanted to pull them out of their state of terror without using his mind to control them.

"I didn't harm her. She allowed me to feed willingly. Just why did you invade my chamber, unannounced and without knocking?"

"There was an accident, in the stable, with Asima." Thomas spoke in a hurry. "She spooked and kicked at the stable door. She is favoring her leg and I was afraid she was injured. I sent Celeste to get you."

"We had a bargain, a deal. Part of that agreement is that neither of you were to enter my chamber at any time unannounced. As for Asima, is Robert tending to her?"

"Yes, sir. He is caring for her now, but I thought you would want to know." Thomas hung his head, his Master was right, of course, they had made a bargain and Celeste had foolishly failed to knock

"The agreement that we made included no questions, but it is too late for that." Henry rose and poured himself another glass of wine. "You asked what I am, who I am. I am exactly what you saw tonight Celeste," Henry paused for effect, partly to frighten them he broke the empty wine glass and taking a shard he pulled it across his wrist. His eyes turned black and his fangs appeared. "I am a Vampire."

Thomas jumped up and put his body between Celeste and his Master. The gash on Henry's wrist closed and Celeste whimpered. Thomas rose up and Henry was impressed with his willingness to protect her. "I won't allow you to hurt her! I don't care if you kill me, I won't allow you to hurt her!"

Henry laughed as his eyes returned to their bright blue. "And what would you do Thomas? How would you protect her from me?"

Thomas shook his head, "I don't know, sir. But please don't touch her. Please don't hurt her. I will do anything you ask!"

"I don't have to hurt either of you." Henry sat back down and directed Thomas to do the same. "We have been together nearly two months now and I have never done anything to harm you, have I?"

Although Thomas had taken his seat he still maintained a protective stance over Celeste. There was something that Henry could not quite put his finger on, but he had never seen Celeste so frightened. Her blood rushed through her veins and her heart rate was almost three times her normal rate.

Henry stood up so rapidly that Thomas didn't even see him move. Suddenly, Thomas found himself pinned against the wall without the ability to struggle. "I will hurt you Thomas; I will hurt you if I have to. This was the bargain, that you keep my secret."

Thomas stared directly into his Master's eyes. He was at a loss for what to do now. "I don't care if you kill me. I will do whatever you ask if you don't hurt Celeste. She has been through too much, sir. If you choose to kill me, then kill her too, but make it painless. My life matters not."

Henry set Thomas back down. Now he was at a loss. "I don't have to kill you, but I want you to know who and what I am. You may try to do me in, you wouldn't be the first, I have lived for over 300 years and I am not that easy to kill."

"I will protect your secret, I swear on my life. I will make sure that Celeste protects your secret."

"The sun is coming up and I have no choice but to retire." Henry strode with purpose over to Celeste who was curled into a small ball on the couch. "You may try to find me, you may even try to kill me, but I am being protected by our benefactor, Mr. Kitman. If you succeed in killing me, you will simply become his property. If you try and you fail, I promise you that your fate will be worse than death." Henry ran his hand down the side of Celeste's face for effect. She lurched away and looked at him with such fear in her eyes that he was suddenly ashamed of himself. This was more than what she had seen tonight, this was far more. However, it was too late to deal with this tonight, and he must guarantee his own safety until the morning.

"I swear, sir. I swear on my life that no harm will come to you." Thomas watched in horror as he touched Celeste. "Please, sir, please don't touch her. I will give you my own life right now if it guarantees her safety."

Henry was perplexed but satisfied and if he didn't retire to his chamber soon he would not need to worry about Thomas or Celeste, the rising sun would handle things well enough. "I believe you Thomas. I promised you that I would protect Celeste so long as you kept our bargain and I have protected her. We will speak tonight and I will continue to protect her so long as I am left undisturbed." With Thomas' nod of agreement Henry slipped away to a separate hidden area, away from the closet provided by Mr. Kitman, and bolted the door.

Thomas turned to the couch and picked up the shaking Celeste. He took her into their room and gently took off her shoes and tucked her into bed. She began to cry so hysterically that she couldn't seem to get her breath.

"He can't touch us during the day, Celeste. You have to calm down. You are stressing yourself." Thomas spoke softly but knew better than to touch her in this state. "He hasn't hurt us and he has kept his word not to touch you. Maybe it will be alright; maybe he will keep his word. If not, we can run during the day, far enough that he can't touch us."

"How would we run, Thomas? We are still property." Celeste was beginning to breathe more normally.

"Maybe we won't have to run. Maybe if we keep our word he will protect you." Thomas tried to reassure her. "Either way, I want you to rest."

"Where are you going?" Celeste questioned.

"To guard his door, I'm not sure where he really sleeps, but I will keep watch today so that no one can get to him. It is the only way to protect you."

Mr. Kitman had just finished his breakfast and settled into his study when Laney was brought to him. He studied her up and down, looking for marks on her neck and was disappointed when he didn't see any. "Did he like you?"

"I think so, sir." Laney kept her eyes to the floor; she knew what happened to the women who failed to please Mr. Kitman. She feared that she had said too much last night.

"Did he feed from you?"

"Yes, sir. He fed."

"I don't see any marks!" Mr. Kitman was becoming angry and Laney couldn't help but tremble.

"He didn't leave any, sir. He wasn't like the other Deamhan, he was gentle." Laney spoke in a rush; she could smell his stale body standing over her.

"Gentle! I have never known any one of their kind to be gentle. What else did he do?"

"Nothing, sir, Nothing. He simply fed and I left." She was beginning to panic. Never before had she done what she did last night. She feared that he could smell him on her or that she looked different in some way.

Mr. Kitman stood up from his desk and grabbed the riding crop he kept nearby. He grabbed her by the neck and pushed her against the wall. "I think he did more than feed." He began to pull at the front of her dress, ripping the buttons from the front and exposing her breasts from her camisole. He pushed her across to his desk and ripped her dress down and bared her buttock. Roughly he pushed his hands between her legs and felt the swelling there.

"You whore!" His anger swelled, "You laid with the demon! He had your body."

"I was following your orders, sir. You told me to do whatever he required of me. I didn't know he intended to lay with me." Laney began to cry as the whip slashed across her back. "Please, sir."

"You and your kind belong to me. You aren't supposed to lay with them, only feed them. Did you like it? Did he make you like it?!" Mr. Kitman was screaming as he laid aside the whip and shoved her drawers down to her ankles.

"No, sir. NO! I only did what I thought you wanted me to do!" Laney began to fight against him until his hand came down on her neck and pinned her to the desk. His other hand brought the whip against her back until she began to bleed.

"Let's see how much he taught you to like it." Laney cried out in fear as he pressed his body into hers. "Shut up. This is what you want and now that you have been with a Deamhan this is all you are good for. This is what becomes of those that lay with the devil and don't you forget that."

Laney bit into her own hand until it bled to keep her from screaming with the pain. It seemed forever before he finished. "Now that you have lain with him I have a special job for you and you will do as I say or you will pay for your sin in blood every day."

With that he rang for his servants who carried her out of the study and into the kitchen.


End file.
